In The Middle Of Nowhere
by fc2001
Summary: As it says in the notes - I was bored and this was kinda what my imagination needed. Just r/r. It's different to my usual stuff - that's not a bad thing is it?
1. Default Chapter

I was kinda tired of writing super-serious, emotional heavy stuff one day - so I broke with tradition and decided to try my hand at non-serious fic. I ran out of steam..but rest assured it will continue another day when I'm feeling similarly silly.  
PS. I own no one and nothing. No animals were harmed etc etc.  
  
"We're all going...oof,"  
Malucci made faces at his attacker, the air knocked out of him by the sudden impact of his seat. He was only getting in the party spirit, no harm in that. It seemed Abby, for one, was not amused.  
"We're not in the playground now,"  
She shrugged dismissively and turned back to the window. He felt quite insulted. Where was this girls sense of fun? Would her face crack?  
"What are you doing anyway? Counting cactuses?"  
"Cactii,"  
"What?"  
He turned to the interference on his left.  
"Cactii. The plural of cactus is cactii,"  
Carter shook his head as his boisterous colleague who completely ignored his perfectly correct grammar lesson turned back to tease Abby. Again. Man, Malucci could be predictable sometimes. Carter rested his head back and  
thought of Mexico. Sun, sand, tequila.....  
"No Dave, ignoring you!"  
Abby answered.  
"Where the hell is everyone's party spirit? This is a holiday not a prison camp,"  
"If you're there it might as well be,"  
"Gee, thanks,"  
"Children. Behave!"  
Weaver was still in charge. She had a crutch and she wasn't afraid to use it either. Abby looked petulant and Dave pulled his sombrero over his face, sulking and muttering a   
"Yes, Festus,"  
Sarkily under his breath.  
"One day you're going to say that too loud,"  
"And that day will be my funeral, I know,"  
He shut up then and closed his eyes. He ignored all around and pretended to sleep.  
"Peace at last,"  
At the front of the bus, Kovac was trying very hard not to snore too loudly. It wouldn't be polite when you're trying to listen with interest to someone. Just unfortunate his someone had to be Romano. The guy was boring. How long  
was it singly possible to talk about one perons? And contrary to your first thoughts, he isn't on his usual favourite topic. Since they left Chicago, Romano had droned endlessly about "the only woman he'll ever love". Lizzie was beautiful. She was also married. And never likely to be interested in a self-obsessed, obnoxious, bald dwarf with frequent misogynist tendencies. Even Kovac had grasped that much.   
"..You don't understand, you can't possibly. God put her on this earth to be with me,"  
He sounded so pathetic. Luka was fighting an urge to slap him hard and yell   
"Snap out of it man,"  
Loudly. He was that bored. And they weren't even halfway there yet. He'd be happier chewing his own arm off than being forced to listen to any more.  
"Luka, Luka, are you listening to me?"  
The Croatian groaned and braced himself for another onslaught.  
"Mark, honey, Romanos making eyes at me again,"  
She cowered behind her husband.  
"Lizzie?"  
She faced her husband, batting her eyelashes innocently.  
"Get over it,"  
"But..."  
"You aren't 16 anymore. Get over it,"  
Mark wasn't keen on long journeys and even less keen on a holiday to a land where they put worms in their national drink. I mean, ruin a good drink why don't you? His thoughts were suddenly and rudely interrupted by a sudden  
judder. The coach shook violently, spluttering along. Romano practically jumped into Kovac's lap, which the dozing Croatian far from appreciated. Carters head bounced off the window, jolting him back into reality. Anspaugh, staggering slightly, grabbed the microphone and addressed the assembled crowd.  
"There seems to have been a slight technical difficultly."  
The driver tapped his shoulder and whispered something into the older mans ear.  
"Oh. O.K. There's been a major technical difficulty. The bus will eventually stop of it's own accord, hold tight until then, when you will disembark calmly and walk away from the coach in an orderly fashion,"  
"Yeah right, and I look like the Pope,"  
Abby hissed decidely pissed off with this turn of events. 


	2. Getting On With It - Slowly

"Damn, it's hot out here,"  
Chen tried to make a temporary fan out of the book she'd been reading.   
"There's plenty of room under my hat for two,"  
Came a cry from the other side of the group. Chen just sighed and rolled her eyes.  
"Well, this way we get to see so much more of the beautiful Mexican countryside,"  
Carter remarked drolly.  
"Countryside? Try wasteland,"  
Abby scanned the surrounding landscape, looking distinctly unamused. She exchanged knowing looks with Chen. The whole group were tired and bored. They wanted a comfortable hotel room, not cactii and sand. Kovac stood  
admiring the cactus closest to him, wondering how painful it would be to impale himself on it to remove the tedium. Alternatively, an evil smile curling his lips at the mere thought, he considered tearing out the spines and gouging  
the bald mans eyes out with them. That would be infinitely less painful and infinitely more satisfying. His sadistic thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an explosion. In unity the group turned to see the coach engulfed in an  
angry fireball. Red hot debris rained down from the clouds of black smoke polluting the sky overhead.  
"Shit!"  
"Oh, I think that just about covers it!"  
Chen bit back, watching the blackened carnage descend onto the sand surrounding the group.  
"The driver...was on the coach,"  
Malucci stuttered, showing an unfamiliar compassion.  
"Never mind that...all our stuff was on that coach,"  
Abby exclaimed, suitably pleased with the current turn of events.   
"Now, come on people, don't panic,"  
Anspaugh tried to remain in charge but his worried expression defied the apparent bravado in his voice.   
"Don't panic? I think panicking would be an extremely sensible option,"  
Abby turned to Chen and whispered conspiratorily.  
"Trust our luck, we get stuck in the desert with a bunch of wimps,"  
"What was that?"  
Carter made it blatantly clear he'd overheard. Chen stifled the resulting giggle and Abby rephrased it instantly, smiling sweetly.  
"Oh, I said aren't we the lucky ones stuck out here with a group of such brave, heroic men,"  
Chen continued to laugh. Carter looked disapprovingly at his colleagues, unappreciative of Abby's sarcasm. Various members of the group had extracted cell-phones from parts of their anatomy and were waving them around to try and get a signal.  
"There won't be mobile phone mast for at least 100 miles. There's no way anyone will get a signal,"  
Elizabeth, recovered from yet another distressing encounter with the troll from hell, was scathing.   
"Yeah, well, we gotta try,"  
Her husband was one of the mobile waving brigade.  
"O.K, I admit it. You're right. Again,"  
Her smile was a knowingly wicked one. Mark tucked the phone back into his pocket in defeat.   
"So, looks like we're well and truly stuck, huh Chief?"  
Weaver turned and menaced Malucci with her crutch. It was a good signal of just how pissed off she was. Of all the places in all the world she had to get stuck in this one.   
"Did anyone get anything remotely useful off the coach?"  
Anspaugh asked, again trying to unite the group and keep control.   
"Useful? What counts as useful in the desert?"  
Cleo wondered out loud.  
"Matches? String? Food? You know, practical stuff?"  
There followed an intense search of all pockets and travel bags for anything of use. Aside of a couple of bags of crisps, the odd apple and a box of matches nothing particularily useful was uncovered. Anspaugh looked down on the gathering miserably, then looked up at the group who were increasingly sheepish.   
"You're a useless lot for doctors aren't you?"  
They all nodded their agreement, despite the rhetorical nature of the question.  
"Well, was anyone a boy scout or guide or anything?"  
"I was,"  
Carter yelled. Not to be outdone, Abby also responded.  
"I got kicked out,"  
"Do you stick anything?"  
The question was a sarky aside. Abby, keeping a completely straight face, simply answered.   
"Not if I can help it," 


End file.
